“Hutchison's Law: Any occurrence requiring undivided attention will be accompanied by a compelling distraction.” – Robert Bloch
This is now the fourth afternoon I’ve sat down to scribble out a bit of all that’s unfolding before me to no avail.
There’s a gumbo of fresh thoughts simmering around in my heart and head that I’d love to put out there on paper… (such as):
… there is a joy rooted in objective truth that desperate circumstances cannot alter.
… what we actually mean when we say that “Marriage” is hard.
… my love of naps.
… the grief and longings stirred up looking through an old school annual.
… an addiction update.
… the breeding ground angry partisan talk shows are for anxiety, fear and hatred.
… General George Patton’s biography.
… how the six “Woes” of Luke 11 effect me.
… when a glass of wine or a well stirred Manhattan is so sweet.
… a friend’s challenge to ponder my being “Chosen”.
… my first impressions of alternative cancer treatments/cures.
.… reflections on my conversion to a warfare world-view.
… how easy I find it to hear God when He’s saying what I want.
… bowling leagues.
I’m still sitting in front of the computer.
Words on each of these musings and more are present… but at the moment I seem unable to put two intelligent sentences together. (Go ahead and count them).
Distraction is familiar territory for me.
One moment I’m bottomed-out in my chair, placid, glazed over in stage 3 of “writers block” and then I find myself in the middle of some project: cleaning out the garage; sharpening every pencil in the house; organizing my library by perfectly aligning every book on its shelf topically in alphabetical order (by author of course); re-folding the family tent or creating a new itunes playlist.
The desire to write persists, so I strap myself back into the chair and lean back to process my thoughts and get God’s interpretation of what’s going on.
Okay, while in silence and stillness there’s a woodpecker rhythmically destroying the wood facia on the north side of our home. I’ve gone out twice to scare him away but, once again he’s returned. This red headed terror pounds on the house giving me, not him, a headache.
Wanting to fight through my dissipation I begin to pray… Father, Father, Father, I come to you now, in this moment longing for you, loving you, worshiping you. I fully consecrate/surrender myself to you… (and then it happens)
Do Red Tail Hawks really have red tails?
At a movie theater which arm rest is yours?
Are eyebrows considered facial hair?
Do you change the heater filter every 30 days or 60 days? It probably depends upon the season. I probably need to replace it every month in winter, every two months in fall and spring, and none in summer…so how many would that be per year? I wonder if Home Depot gives you a case discount?
I snap out of it the way you jerk yourself awake in the early stages of sleep and continue, Lord come give me focus, strength, diligence. Counsel and father me…
When is my breakfast appointment tomorrow? I better not wear my good shirt I may stain it.
Do you know what I’m describing?
I fear I am much and often distracted.
Even now, this very moment, as I finish this scrawling I’m so aware of the battle required to do such simple things, the most important things.
The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy [and distract]; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full. – John 10:10
A battle we must and can win. Join me in fighting it!
– Craig McConnell